A Big Life in a Small Town (Bellingwood #2) Read online

  "Thank you for the flowers," she said. "These are my favorites. I love all the color!"

  He smiled. "Good. They seemed like something you might enjoy. I hope you like chardonnay," he said, pointing at the wine.

  "I do. I'm not a huge fan of red wine, and since we're having chicken tonight, this will be perfect." She slipped her bottle of wine back beside the refrigerator and dropped his into the bucket. It seemed like it was already a good temperature, so she grabbed a corkscrew and walked over to the table with it. "Would you like to do the honors?" she asked.

  "Sure. My mama taught me a few things about wine." He took the corkscrew from her and set to work unwrapping the top.

  "Are you ready to eat? I can serve any time."

  "I'm here to spend an evening eating and dancing. You're in charge of the timing," he smiled and there was a thwop as the cork was pulled from the bottle.

  "You pour and I'll bring out the food."

  Polly transferred the Chicken Marsala and wild rice into a serving dish and placed it on the table. A few more trips and a salad, carafe of iced water and a basket of beautiful rye and white rolls were on the table. She pulled a hot baking dish of cheesy asparagus out of the oven and set it on a trivet between them, looked the table over, scrutinized it for color and decided it was fine. The salad was filled with red tomatoes and colorful peppers, carrots and shades of green. Yes, she was happy with it.

  "This looks great, Polly. Do you cook like this all the time?" he asked as he held her seat for her when she was finally ready to sit down. Mark sat at the end of the table, where she had put the other place setting.

  "I enjoy cooking, but I probably don't as often as I should. I'm a sucker for a frozen pizza or a bologna sandwich if I'm all by myself."

  "I love bologna, tomatoes, mayonnaise and potato chips in my sandwich," he laughed.

  "I do too!" she said. "My mother taught me to put potato chips in sandwiches to make them more fun. Wow, that's a memory I'd lost."

  He held his glass of wine up and said, "To old and new memories. May they fill our lives with laughter."

  She tilted her glass into his and said, "Cheers."

  "Oh!" he said, "I should have said something when I walked in, but Obiwan distracted me. Is there any reason you have someone watching your place?"

  Polly set her glass down with a thud, "What?"

  "Like your guest or an employee or anything? Maybe it’s nothing and they're gone by now."

  "Where? What?" Polly tried to breathe. "What?"

  "There was a car sitting over in the swimming pool parking lot with a couple of people sitting in it. Maybe they were trying to get their bearings, but they're not from around here."

  Polly got up and started to run over to the kitchen window, then thought better of it and walked quietly. She turned the water on nonchalantly and glanced out the window across the parking lot and the road. There was a car in the lot for the swimming pool, but she didn't see any exhaust coming out of it. The evening was cold and whoever was in that car had to be freezing without the car running.

  "You're sure there is someone in that car?" she asked.

  Mark joined her at the window. "Pretty sure. I suppose I could have ... No, I'm sure."

  "And you don't recognize the vehicle from town? It's not a couple looking for a place to go parking?"

  "On a county highway? In town? Sheesh, Polly, I thought you grew up around here," he laughed.

  "I didn't mean that!" she protested, then said, "Okay, I probably did mean that."

  "Come on, let's eat dinner and have a nice evening. If they're still there when I leave tonight, we'll call someone to check on them. How about that?"

  "You're right. It's probably nothing. And I did make dinner." She laughed and said, “Thanks for telling me so I can be aware and thanks for telling me not to worry so I can enjoy the evening."

  They went back to the table and sat down to eat.

  "Okay," Polly said as she poured dressing on her salad. "Tell me how in the world a veterinarian is also a dancer. Where in the world did that come from?"

  "It's not that strange, is it?" he laughed.

  "It's maybe a little odd," she said.

  "My mom was a dancer. She loved dancing and when I was a kid, she started teaching in an Arthur Murray Dance studio in Minneapolis. Then, she and Dad decided that it would be good for them if they bought the studio. He was an accountant and managed the business while she did what she loved.

  "She had five boys and we all learned how to dance and we all ended up teaching dance classes at her studio. My sister has more classical training and danced some in Chicago, but when she met her husband and decided to have children, she realized that her passion was also teaching.

  "In fact, she moved to Bellingwood after I settled here and opened the studio downtown. It's nice having her around. I get to spend time with great kids and leave them with her when I go home."

  "Then, what brought you to Bellingwood?" Polly asked.

  "I came down to Iowa State for vet school and spent time here interning. Doc Blades was pretty close to retirement and I spent a couple of years with him after graduation. Dad helped me set up the business plan and I bought the practice. Ralph was pretty much done last spring and I think he and Freida left for Arizona in their camper in November and may never return."

  "Marnie says you've brought on another vet?"

  "Seth Jackson. Yeah. He interned with me and had gotten a job in Waterloo. He was tired of living in the city."

  Mark laughed and said, "He's good with animals and he gets it about living in a small town. I think he grew up down in southeast Iowa somewhere. I couldn't believe he thought Waterloo was a big city, though."

  Polly nodded. "At least he figured it out pretty quickly. It took me fourteen years to realize I missed the small town and rural life."

  "I didn't know anything about small towns until college, but I soon realized how much I loved the quiet."

  "That had to be strange for you, coming from the city."

  "My family certainly enjoys living in the city. Mom loved taking us to everything she could. Dad bought two season tickets to the symphony, opera and ballet every year and she would dress one of us up and make us go with her. When Lisa showed an interest in ballet, they just bought a third ticket so she could attend everything."

  Polly smiled, "That sounds nice."

  "I suppose it was. But, do you know how difficult it was to be cool and want to be a basketball player when your mom was only interested in taking you to the ballet?"

  "What about your Dad?"

  "He was so smitten with that woman, she talked him into anything. My oldest brother, Jack, though, played football in high school and when I started playing basketball, he sat Mom down and told her that she had to start going to my games. He made sure she knew she couldn't expect us to all follow in her footsteps."

  "Did you play basketball in college?"

  "I sure did! In fact, I got a partial scholarship to play."

  "Do any of your brothers still dance?"

  "Robbie is still in Minneapolis. He likes helping Mom out at the studio, and teaches with her every week."

  "Does he work for her?"

  "I suppose she pays him, she always did. It was nice to make extra money, but no, he's a portrait and wedding photographer."

  "What about your other brothers?"

  "Jack lives in Rochester. He is in IT at the Mayo Clinics. Evan lives up in Duluth. He writes for the News Tribune and Devin, who is his twin, lives in Austin. He and his wife, Ellen, own an interior design firm."

  "You all have very diverse occupations!" Polly said.

  "I suppose. We were lucky. Mom and Dad told us to pursue our dreams. We watched Dad completely support Mom in hers and knew that if we went after something, it could be real."

  "And you all dance," she commented.

  "We all dance," he agreed.

  "Does your Dad dance, too?"

  "He's actually pretty go
od, but he and Mom have been dancing since they met. He had to have learned a few things over the years."

  "Did they ever compete?"

  Mark laughed out loud. "We all competed at some point. She wrangled him into a citywide ballroom dance competition one year. I'd never seen him as miserable as he was during that period of time. He kept telling her that the reason he was an accountant was so that he could sit in a room and add up small numbers, not glide across a dance floor in front of judges. He did it because he adored her, but she realized that it nearly killed him. After that, Robbie or Jack danced with her."

  “You said Jack was the oldest. Where do the rest of you fall in?"

  "Lisa is the baby and then the twins are two years older than she is. I'm right in the middle, Robbie is three years older than me and Jack is two years older than him."

  Mark put his fork down and reached for another roll. As he tore it apart and buttered it, he said, "But, that's enough about me. I've been talking and talking. Tell me something about you that hasn't hit the Bellingwood gossip train."

  Polly thought for a moment. "It's been nice talking about someone other than myself," she said. "I like hearing your stories. But, okay. Something no one around here knows about me. Let's see."

  She nodded to signify that the wine he poured into her glass was enough, and said, "Until I moved to Bellingwood, my life was pretty boring. I had thought about being a veterinarian when I was a kid. I loved horses but I didn't ever have a chance to own any. Dad was so busy with everything else on the farm, he couldn't swing it. I didn't push. One of my friends, Jan, always let me ride with her, but that was it. Of course, we had lots of animals out there. Dad didn't want them in the house, so my dogs and cats were always outside animals. I remember bringing SusieQ, our mutt, inside one night. I wanted her to sleep in my room with me. Well, the poor dog didn't know what to do in my room. She whined until Dad opened my bedroom door. He took one look at me, shook his head and let the dog back outside."

  Polly picked her glass up and took a sip, "I should warn you. Wine goes straight to my head. Hopefully I've eaten enough that I won't get too loopy on you."

  "As long as it relaxes you enough to dance with me, you're fine," Mark laughed. "What kind of girl were you in high school? I'll bet you had a lot of friends. Did you play in the band? Did you play any sports?"

  "No!" Polly declared. "If I tell you that I can't dance, I'm being totally serious. I stink at it. Now, transfer my ineptitude for dancing to a basketball or volleyball court. Imagine the damage I could do to a team in competition." She snorted in laughter. "I didn't play any sports and we'll leave it at that. But, I was in band and I always had good grades."

  She paused and said, "I did have a lot of friends. There were a bunch of us who moved in and out of different cliques. I was friends with the athletic girls. I just couldn't play with them and they knew better than to ask me. I was quite glad to sit in the bleachers and cheer for them. I dated a wrestler once and the next date was with Andy Tressler, the epitome of the chess club king. He was a little odd, so that didn't work out quite like I'd hoped. But, yes. I suppose I had a lot of friends."

  "Have you seen many of them since you moved back?"

  "You know, it's weird, but I haven't. I've found most of them on Facebook, but we've all got our lives going on right now and while it's good to see that they're all happy in their lives, none of us have rushed right out to get together again. I guess maybe fifteen years puts a lot of distance between us ... more than we ever thought."

  "Would you like some dessert?" she asked. "Or would you like to wait?"

  Mark sat back in his chair and stretched. "Maybe we should wait, if that's okay. This was terrific and I ate too much. You're a great cook! Are you ready to do some dancing now?"

  "You aren't going to let me out of this, are you?"

  "I am not," he replied. "I left my speakers and iPod in the hallway. That will be a great space to practice." He stood up and swooped his hand out in invitation. "Shall we dance?"

  Polly put her hand in his and stood up. Obiwan had been sleeping under the table while they ate and looked expectantly as she walked to the door. "Nope, not yet. We'll go out later, I promise. First, I have to face some torture."

  Mark led her out into the hall and left the door to the apartment slightly ajar. A small portable speaker system was sitting on the floor beside her door with an iPod already docked.

  "Before we do this for real, I want to teach you a few basic steps." When Polly grimaced, he said, "It won't hurt, I promise."

  "I'm not worried about it hurting me," she said. "You're the one in mortal danger."

  "I've been with worse; I can assure you."

  "Let's do it, then, if I'm not going to be able to escape your clutches," she sighed.

  He stood beside her and said, "Watch my feet and do what I do." Polly mimicked the movement of his feet as he slowly took her through the basic box-step. "Walk, side, together," he said as they moved.

  "Can you do it on your own?" he asked. She tried to remember where to put her feet and quickly stumbled as her left foot caught her right heel.

  "See!" she said.

  "Try again. Here, do it with me," he put his arm around her back and guided her through the steps again. "Now, by yourself."

  She tried it again and again until finally she felt what it was he was saying to her.

  "That's it!" he proclaimed. "You've got it. Now, I'm going to turn some music on. See if you can do it in time with the rhythm of the song."

  It didn't take long for Polly to trip over her feet and she cursed.

  "No, don't freak out," he said. "You're doing fine." He flipped the light switch off and said, "There's enough light you won't fall down the steps, but this time shut your eyes and try again."

  Polly said, "I'm putting a lot of trust in you. I don't let very many people see me this uncoordinated. I hope you know that if you tell anyone, you die."

  "I'm fully confident that you could find a way to destroy me. My lips are sealed. Now shut your eyes and dance."

  She closed her eyes and tried to feel the rhythm of the music, and then began to move her feet. She'd moved through several patterns of the box step when she felt him slip an arm around her waist. Her eyes flew open.

  "Shut your eyes," he said and put her left hand on his shoulder, and then scooped her right hand in his hand. "Now, don't forget to breathe."

  Polly tried to relax, but the next thing she knew he stopped and said, "Polly open your eyes."

  "What?"

  "I know you're an independent girl, but you have to let me lead when we're dancing. That's why you keep tripping the men you're with. Feel where I want you to go. You don't have to be in control of this, let me do the guiding."

  Polly felt a tear leak out of her eye. She shut her eyes quickly so he wouldn't notice, hoping the dim lighting would help.

  "Are you okay?"

  "Fine. Let's go again," she said. "I'll try to do better."

  "Polly. You're doing fine."

  "Okay," she said.

  "Polly, open your eyes and look at me."

  She looked up at him.

  "This has you absolutely terrified, doesn't it?"

  She nodded, afraid to say anything.

  "You don't do things poorly, do you?"

  This time she shook her head.

  "Will you trust me to not let you fail at this?"

  Polly shrugged her shoulders and took a deep breath.

  "Okay. I'm ready to try again."

  "My hand on your back and the one covering your other hand will tell you where I'm going. Trust that I can get you there too."

  "I'll try."

  The song had ended, so Mark waited patiently with her in his arms as the iPod advanced to the next song. He tightened his grip on her hand and she felt the strength of his muscles as he began moving her around the hallway. All of a sudden, she felt what he was telling her. She felt the movement in his muscles as he was preparing to turn h
er or move backwards. Before she knew it, the song was over.

  He stopped, released her hand and stepped back from her. "How did that feel to you?"

  "If I tell you I've never felt that free before, will you laugh at me?" she asked.

  "That's perfect." Mark smiled at her and said, "Shall we try again?"

  "Yes!" Polly wanted to keep dancing. No wonder people had been doing this for eons. It was wonderful!

  The next song's tempo was a little faster and she managed to lose her place in the step a couple of times, but each time, Mark stepped with her and brought her back into the pattern. They danced through two more songs and he said, "Now, this time, instead of the regular four-four pattern, we're going to waltz. The step is the same, but the feel is a little different. You're going to have to trust me on this, okay?"

  Polly's confidence returned. She smiled and said, "I'm ready."

  Within a few measures, she stopped him, laughing. "I wasn't ready. I have no idea what I'm doing here."

  "We'll try again, then." He restarted the song and took her in his arms. It was a slow waltz and gave her time to concentrate on her feet. When the next waltz began, the tempo again was quick and he said, "Don't look at your feet, look up at me, we're going to fly this time."

  Polly took a deep breath and decided to let him guide her. Her feet finally seemed to understand what it took to dance and when the song was over, she said, "I feel a little like Ginger Rogers!"

  "You are doing well, but I have to warn you. You're probably going to ache a little tomorrow."

  "Do we have to stop now?" she asked.

  "Why don't we waltz once more and then return to a normal four-four song, so you have the rhythm in your memory. Then, maybe it's time for some dessert."

  He turned on the music and they danced again, winding around the large hallway. He brought her to a stop in front of the door and as he backed away, he kept her hand in his and bowed deeply.

  "Thank you for the dance," he said.

  Polly bent her knees in a curtsy and replied, "Thank you!"

  Mark picked up the speakers and brought them into the apartment. He put it on the table beside the door, and followed her to the dining room.